


Bridges

by myWorks



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Clinical Depression, Deceased Stiles, Don't worry, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, It's not Scott, M/M, Self-Loathing, Suicidal Thoughts, Various Supernatural Threats, allison is alive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:49:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myWorks/pseuds/myWorks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott is taking Stiles' death hard and his depression is slowly beginning to spread.  As he falls deeper and deeper into the darkness, he'll need his friends now more than ever.  And maybe one friend will be the bridge he needs to finally get to the light at the end of the tunnel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if I'll be continuing Teenagers (my other Teen Wolf story). I might pick it back up later. But yeah, this story is completely unrelated. Canon up to and takes place after Riddled.
> 
> Scott is extremely depressed for the first few chapters. This sentences counts both as a slight OOC warning as well as a trigger warning.  
> Unbeta'd.

 

 

**You**

Even though it was getting close to summer, Beacon Hills seemed unnaturally cold.  It seemed that even people who had nothing to do with the supernatural events of late felt it, the cold darkness that Allison had been feeling for months now.  Isaac was asleep beside her, both of them sitting on her bed with their backs against the headboard.  She honestly hated when Isaac fell asleep first.  Something about his ability to keep things light, even in this situation was sorely missed in the shadows of her room.  A chill shot through her body and Isaac, perhaps feeling it too, slowly stirred awake. 

Allison watched as his eyes scanned the room, a habit she noticed he did whenever he woke up.  She had the feeling that mentally he knew where he was and that he was safe, but still Allison knew that old habits died hard.  The thought of death made Allison sick to her stomach.  There had been enough of that lately.  Isaac pecked her on the cheeck and pulled her into his chest and she fell willingly.  It was too quiet in the house, but at the same time, the quiet was deafening.  She wanted to go do something, but right now she wanted to stay in the bed huddled next to Isaac as if he were the world's only source of warmth.  She then felt guilty. 

"Scott," Isaac said, voicing her thoughts.  His voice was pained as he said it and at one point, Allison would have scoffed or glared at him for bringing up her ex-boyfriend again.  But this time was different.  This was a werewolf thing that went beyond what Allison could feel.  Scott was hurting, bad, and anyone could see that Scott's pain was spreading throughout his entire pack.  Even Isaac, with his jokes and his sarcasm and cherubic curls seemed like a candle in a hurricane against the depression that Scott was going through.

She felt bad for Jackson.  He had come home at the worst possible time and she knew he must be miserable, feeling the weight of everything that had happened when he hadn't even been there.  Sometimes Allison wondered if Jackson had been there, if they had had just one more werewolf, if things might have been different.  She struggled to hold back tears.  Sure, her and Stiles weren't nearly as close as Scott was with him, but they were still friends.  And seeing Scott without Stiles was just wrong.  That's because, Allison had realized, there had never been Scott and Stiles.  It was Scott _and_ Stiles.  They were two parts of a whole and without him, Scott was broken.  He was just Scott and Allison didn't need to be a werewolf to feel that kind of pain.

* * *

It was a Friday morning as Scott simply sat numbly in front of the Stilinski house.  Stiles should have been in English right now.  He would have, if Scott had just been stronger.  If he had been faster.  Smarter.  Better.  The Sheriff had moved out, which Scott could understand.  He had lost too much and that house was filled with too many memories.  Scott had tried helping him move, but he managed one box before having to stop.  He knew it wasn't fair.  Mr. Stilinski had lost far more than he did. 

"Scott?"  Came the Sheriff's voice, but Scott didn't turn around.  Seconds later, the man was seated next to Scott with an arm over the boy's shoulders.  They were silent for a while.  "You should be in school."  Mr. Stilinski said finally.

"So should he."  Scott retorted, his voice sounding scratchy and broken.  Scott's words felt like a hammer, but John powered through.  He remembered trying to pack all of his belongings and Scott trying to help, only for the latter to collapse on the ground in a mess of tears and apologies.  No matter how much the former sheriff told Scott it wasn't his fault, Scott refused to listen.  He was blaming himself for everything.  John said nothing and just continued to stare at the house.  He remembered Claudia's face when they had first laid eyes on the damn thing.  She immediately claimed it was perfect.  The real estate agent nearly had to force her to go inside to make sure, but John had known it wasn't necessary.  He had felt it too.  This house was special.  Nearly twenty years later, John wasn't sure what he thought of the house.  He had laughed, he had cried, he had shouted and drank and loved and lost in that house.  What he did know though, was that it was now way too big for just one man.

"Scott..." John said, but Scott stood up.  He had the hard, unrealistic face of someone trying not to cry.  John had seen it plenty of times at the station.

"I'm gonna head to class. I'm sorry Mr. Stilinski."  His voice cracked and as John watched Scott jump on his bike and speed off, he knew the boy was lying.  He knew where Scott was going and it wasn't school.  John called Scott's mom and gave her a brief rundown before he looked back at his old home.  He looked at the ugly oak tree that seemed to have died along with Claudia.  At one point, Scott and Stiles had decided that they could easily manage a jump from the tree to the roof.  They both wound up in the ER with broken bones.  Coincidentally, both boys had broken the exact same bone in the exact same way.  John, Claudia, and Melissa knew that from that day forward the two were going to be inseparable.

Except here they were, separated.  By something no amount of wishing or crying or supernatural forces could bridge together.  John missed his son.  He missed Stiles' quick tongue that the boy had developed because Scott was no good with words.  He missed how Stiles was always moving, even it was just fingers tapping on the table.  He missed the energy his son bought into every room, like a small ray of light wherever he went.  He had gotten that from his mother.  Part of John wanted to hate his life.  How could someone be so unlucky?  First his wife to some incurable brain disease and then his son to some Japanese demon.  Yes, John Stilinski was not a lucky man in life.  But, he remembered, at least he had loved.  Like the old phrase said, it was better to love and have lost than to have never loved at all.

Looking at the front yard, he remembered Scott having an asthma attack and Stiles wailing because he thought he was going to lose his best friend.  He remembered having a barbeque and Scott and Stiles finding beer for the first time.  He and Melissa were torn between dying of laughter as their sons went through an admittedly hilarious comedy show and wanting to strangle their kids for underage drinking.  Memories began to float through John's mind like leaves in a breeze.  Some memories had Stiles and others were before he was born.  Some of them had Claudia and still others were after her passing.  Not all were happy memories, but they were all his memories.  And even without the house, John knew he'd never forget those.  He sat in front of the house for maybe another hour, although he was so lost in his memories he wasn't sure.  He had the time now.  He had retired from his position as sheriff and was planning on moving for a bit anyway.  Claudia and Stiles had always wanted to visit Europe, so maybe he'd go there.  Yeah, Europe would be just fine.

* * *

 

Jackson Whittemore was not a happy person at the moment.  He had spent the past several months in Englad and had been expecting trumpets and parties upon his return to California.  Or at least a party.  But as soon as crossed the city line, he had felt something was off.  He'd known instantly it was a werewolf thing.  Being a werewolf had quite a few perks.  Within seconds of being in Beacon Hills, Jackson had known Derek wasn't the Alpha anymore, threw up in his mouth when he realized Scott was, and that there had been other Alphas in Beacon Hill at one point.  He had also sensed something.  Something far darker.  In the end, it was Lydia who informed him on everything that had been happening in his absence.  The Alpha pack, the sacrifices, Scott, Allison, and Stiles' ice bath, the oni and the Nogitsune, and most importantly, Stilinski's own demise.  As it turned out, Jackson had arrived two days before Stiles' funeral.  He was glad he didn't go.  Apparently there were lots of tears and Scott couldn't even finish his eulogy.

Even Jackson knew how bad Stiles' death was to Scott.  Whatever he had thought about the two, they had his respect and he didn't need any werewolf senses to tell how close the two were.  If Jackson had ever needed an example of platonic soulmates, he would use Scott and Stiles without pause.  Jackson had talked with Scott on the phone once since he'd been back and that had probably been the most depressing conversation of his life.  Any semblance of joy or happiness in his voice was completely gone, replaced with emptiness.  For what it was worth, Jackson was part of the pack.  And he hated it.  Scott's sadness hung onto him like a humid day - oppresive, inescapable, and very, very uncomfortable.

And Jackson didn't even have Lydia to talk to anymore.  One of the bastards from the Alpha pack was now all over his girl and Lydia's normally beautiful smell was now covered by Aiden's.  Danny wasn't much better.  Apparently Aiden had a twin and Danny was all over that.  Jackson was frustrated to say the least.  The two people in Beacon Hills he was closest too smelled like other werewolves and Jackson was never known for sharing.  Okay, maybe he was once when he was like seven, but times had changed.  And Jackson would be damned before he lost his position as the number one asshole in both Lydia and Danny's lives.

But there'd be time for that later, Jackson had realized.  He may have known the two longer, but it was the twins who were there with them while everything around them had gone to hell.  As much as Jackson loathed their very presence in Beacon Hills, he was at least thankful for that. 

It was Friday night and everyone was downstairs in front of the McCall tv.  Melissa had apparently invited everyone over in an atempt to make everyone feel better, but all she really succeeded in doing was feeing a two teenagers and a host of supernatural creatures some Subway finger sandwiches.  Scott was upstairs in his room, probably in the dark.  Melissa had caught him there several times already, knees hugged to chest and just sitting in the dark.  He rarely ate or did much of anything anymore.  He just sat, cried until his tear ducts were empty and would then sleep until they filled back up again.  Scott's already sizeable metabolism had tripled since becoming a werewolf and had increased more since becoming an Alpha, and Melissa wondered whether werewolves starved slower or faster than regular humans.  Neither option much amused her.  Melissa took a trip upstairs, stopping only to glance down at her son's friends.  Despite the first Hangover being on, they were mostly silent.  They laughed on occasion at the funny parts, but no one said much of anything.  That didn't bother Melissa much.  At least they were there, together, which was more than she could say about Scott.  She knocked on his door.

"Scott?  Honey, you alright in there?"  The door didn't have a lock, but Melissa resisted the urge to barge in nonetheless.  She had faced clinically depressed patients before and she knew there wasn't much she could do.  That was probably the most painful part for her.  There was nothing Melissa could do but be there.  Melissa waited, but there was no answer.  There never was.  It was like Scott had lost the energy to even speak, which she really didn't find surprising.  Words had always been Stiles' forte.  Even with Scott's whole word-a-day, Stiles was the mouth of the two.  He was everything Scott couldn't say.  Melissa took a deep steeling breath before entering the room. 

Scott was still there, curled up into as small a ball as he could manage.  The lights were out and the windows was open, allowing a cold breeze to have its way with the room.  Melissa went down to sit by her son, pulling the boy into a hug.  Scott offered no resistance, but also gave no words.

"Sweety, your friends are downstairs."  It was a pointless statement, Melissa knew.  Scott had probably sensed them before they walked through the front door.  It pained her seeing Scott like this.  In response to her words, Scott simply nodded.  As usual no words.

"Come on Scott, why don't you go down there?  There's food."  Melissa coaxed, giving her son's shirt a little pull.  He didn't budge, which meant he was resisting.  It wasn't much, but Melissa counted it as a win regardless.  Cautiously, she tugged again.

"Please Scott, please go down there.  Even if it's just to grab a bite.  I don't want to see you like this.  Please, Scott."  Scott looked into his mother's pleading eyes for a long time.  Finally, thankfully, he began to stand.  When he walked, it was slow.  His eyes seemed glued to the floor and his face followed them.  His entire body seemed hellbent on falling to the floor.  Still in Scott's room, Melissa could hear her son's footsteps as he descended the stairs.  Slowly, she fell onto her knees and closed her eyes.

"Please God," she mouthed silently.  "I know I don't do this as much as I should, but please.  _Please_ do something for him.  Even if you don't send Stiles back, do something.  I can't watch him like this anymore.  _Please_ " she pleaded in such a quiet voice she wasn't even sure if she had really spoken or not.  A cold wind caused her to shiver and with that, she stood up and began her descent downstairs.  She internally winced when she passed Scott, who had a nibbled on sandwich in his hand as he walked back towards his room.  There were tears on his cheek, but he didn't seem to notice them.  He didn't even seem to see her and seconds later, his door was again closed.

Melissa continued down the stairs, defeated.  Lydia looked up at her and gave her an apologetic look.  A chorus of 'thank you Ms. McCall's rang througout the room.  Melissa smiled at their intentions to make her feel better and truth be told, it was a little uplifting.  But still she couldn't help but think about Scott.

Scott who was upstairs in his room, the sandwich on his bed.  He couldn't eat between the sobs and the lump in his throat.  He felt absolutey awful.  Here all his friends were trying to make him feel better and all he wanted as Stiles back.  What kind of Alpha was he?  Hell, what kind of friend was he?  Even as he mentally berated himself, he couldn't make himself get up again.  He only cried harder, bringing his knees to his chest so that he had something to rest his eyes on.  He was a horrible son.  He had heard his mom's prayer, knew how much he was hurting her, and even after all of that he couldn't even eat a fucking sandwich for her sake.  He knew it was unfair of him to miss Stiles when John missed him more and didn't even have anyone to turn to, but Scott couldn't make himself stop wishing for his best friend.  Every memory that flashed before his eyes made the pain that much more real.

He wanted to die.  Maybe then he could be with Stiles again.  Maybe he would feel better and everyone could move on with their lives.  Everyone else could be happy.  Scott struggled to bring his mind back from that place.  It wasn't the first time he had thought it, and every time he had to tell himself that his dying would just make everyone more sad.  Then he would realize he didn't care about everyone else.  He just wanted Stiles back so the two of them could be happy together again.  And after that, he'd feel like a horrible person all over again.  It was a vicious, cold cycle that Scott couldn't break himself out of.  If Stiles was here, he'd be able to break Scott out of this.  Everyone knew it.  Scott was nothing without Stiles.  Scott felt it.  He was nothing.  Numbly, his head hit the pillow.  He felt tired, which was nothing new.  He always felt tired these days.  Even sitting up to cry was a struggle.  Scott briefly wondered if it was possible to smother himself when his door opened.  It was Isaac, Allison, and Lydia.  And everyone else as well, but those three were up front.

Scott forced himself to sit up, glad that it was dark enough to hide his tear-stained face.  No one moved to turn on the light.  The next few moments were awkward, as the trio up front made their way onto Scott's bed.  Everyone else sat on the floor beside Scott's bed.  No one said anything and for a while, they all just grieved.  Scott felt better.  Not by much.  In fact, Scott wasn't even quite sure if it did.  But there was a small warm feeling in his chest.  Everything else was cold.  Eventually, everyone left.  Scott wish they could've stayed; even Jackson and the twins.  He hated being alone.  Isaac was still there though.  Of course, he was.  Not by choice though, Scott realized.  Isaac wrapped an arm around Scott and pulled him close. 

Isaac had never been one for physical contact, mostly because most of his memories of touch also involved pain.  But he knew Scott liked contact.  It was why he and Stiles were always all over each other.  As soon as he touched Scott, Isaac felt that he was cold.  Way too cold for a werewolf.  Isaac didn't know much about werewolves, but he knew they weren't supposed to be cold.  Ever.  It was like a dog with a dry nose, which Isaac knew was bad.

"You're freezing."  Isaac stated, but Scott only nodded.  Isaac stood up angrily. This was like Derek all over again. 

"Scott, I know it sucks, but you _have_ to snap out of this!"  He exclaimed, his voice more pleading than upset.  Scott's eyes were blank, but that didn't stop Isaac.  "I get it, Scott.  Stiles was a part of you and I know, it won't ever be right but _please_ Scott.  We need you too."  At this point, Melissa was standing in the doorway.  She had heard Isaac's raised voice and had moved as quickly as she could.  Although she couldn't see it, Melissa could imagine Isaac's face matched her own these days as he repeated himself.

"We need you."

Scott looked at both of them with wet eyes.  Tears began falling again.  "I'm sorry." He sobbed.

* * *

The sun was up when Scott awoke, but he couldn't tell how high it was.  A quick glance at his phone told him it was noon.  There was a text on his phone from his mom.  _Had to work today.  Please smile and please eat._ Scott flipped the phone over.  He hated his mom having to beg him to do things like eat and smile.  What kind of son made his mom say stuff like that?  Scott sent a weak _i will_ even though they both knew he probably wouldn't eat and he definitely wouldn't be smiling anytime soon.  He was partly surprised when Isaac came into his room with a plate of eggs.  There were spices and pieces of meat in them, which told Scott that it was Isaac himself who made them.  Eggs were the only thing the Beta could cook with any skill so he always added his own flare to them.  They smelled delicious, but Scott's stomach protested at the sight of them.

"Open up for the airplane?"  Isaac attempted lamely, holding up a spoonful of eggs.  The corners of Scott's lips twitched slightly as he shook his head and Isaac sighed before placing the plate on his bed stand.  There was a silence.

"Sorry about last night.  I shouldn't have yelled at you."  Scott didn't remember hearing his mom chide Isaac on how to deal with depressed people, so Isaac was likely doing this of his own volition.  Or Scott's mom sent Isaac a text.  It made Scott feel better thinking it was the first one.

"It's cool.  You're right."  Scott answered.  His voice sounded strange to him.  It was never something he used to notice and he often wondered if, when Stiles was still alive, his voice sounded different.  Isaac didn't respond for a few seconds.

"I get it, you know?  Kind of.  I mean, I guess it's different for everyone.  But..." Isaac stopped himself for a bit, not quite sure how to continue and not completely sure if he should tell Scott what he was about to.  In the end, he decided it couldn't hurt.  "My dad...he wasn't always so...angry.  Before my mom died, he was really normal.  But, she had, something was wrong with her heart.  And looking back, I think part of the reason my dad was always so angry was because part of him blamed himself and the other part couldn't really deal with that."  Isaac stopped again to look at Scott.  He could see the Alpha was paying attention and took that as a cue to continue.

"But when my mom died, a lot of stuff changed in our house.  I guess what I'm trying to say is that..you're depressed and that I understand.  But Scott, you can't let this consume you."  Scott could hear the words Isaac wasn't saying.

'Don't let it consume you like it did my dad.'

'Don't leave me like he left me.'

'Don't go somewhere I can't follow.'

Scott watched as Isaac took a deep breath and stood up, not quite sure what else to say.  He turned to exit the door when Scott grabbed his wrist.

"I'm sorry Isaac.  I'm trying and trying, but I just can't beat it.  I'm too tired."  Scott said in a low voice.  Regardless, the loudest part of his words went unsaid. 

'I want to die.'

At this Isaac quickly turned around and grabbed Scott's shoulders.

"You _can_ beat this Scott!  _You're_ the werewolf who broke through the mountain ash!  That's supposed to be impossible, but you did it."  Isaac's face was bright and excited, the exact opposite of Scott's.

"But I couldn't save Stiles."  At this, Isaac's face fell.  He knew that Scott's recovery was going to be a process, but that didn't change the frustration he felt.  With his Alpha out of commission, Isaac felt lost as if he were just floating in space.  He knew the other werewolves felt the same way.  They needed Scott to get a grip.  It was almost painful for them, being tied in so closely to Scott's emotions.  They all felt a portion of his sadness and Isaac hoped that it relieved Scott just a bit.  Struck by inspiration, Isaac grabbed Scott's hand.  He wondered if he could absorb emotional pain.  Scott grabbed Isaac's and pushed him back.

"No, Isaac."  Scott said, cutting Isaac off before he could start.

"I just want to help Scott!"  Isaac snapped.  Scott shook his head.

"It'll be okay Isaac."  Scott said and Isaac was painfully aware that Scott mentioned nothing about beating it.

* * *

To both boys' surprise, Melissa came home early with a box of pizza.  And to Melissa's surprise, Scott was out of his room.  Sure, he was in the dark kitchen facedown on the table, but Melissa still approved.  When she saw Isaac, she mouthed 'You got him out?'

"He locked me out of my room while I was in the bathroom."  Scott said into the table.  Melissa turned back to Isaac who gave her a sheepish smile.  She groaned and rolled her eyes, a smile on her face nonetheless.  It was nice to know she wasn't the only one in the house fighting Scott's depression.

"Well since you're out, want pizza?"  Melissa asked hopefully.  Scott raised his head and looked sadly at the pizza.  He had always preferred Pizza Hut and Stiles had always liked Dominos so Melissa had elected to just go to one of the pizzeria places, taking special care to pick up from one outside of town.  A part of Scott inwardly smiled at the gesture.  Another part, the louder part, hated himself for making his mom having to go so far out of her way just to make him happy.  Slowly, Scott stood up.

"No thanks," he said miserably as he left the kitchen.  There was the sound of footsteps followed by a loud crack before the two downstairs heard the door close.  They fell silent for a bit, but then Isaac lightened up.

"Hey, on the bright side, when I locked him out, he didn't even try that."  Melissa smiled and then realization dawned on her.

"Wait, how did you lock the door?  None of the doors in this house have locks."  Isaac gave another sheepish smile while upstairs, Scott stared at the admittedly elaborate system of items Isaac had used to barricade his door.  Before long he found himself where he usually was, on his bed folded up into as small a ball as possible.  Why couldn't he have been the one who'd gotten possessed by Nogitsune.  Why did it have to be Stiles?  Stiles who had everything to lose.  Sure Scott's mom would have been sad, but at least she still had Isaac and at least she had four other brothers and sisters.  Mr. Stilinski was an only child whose only parent was a 75-year-old woman who lived in a nursing home and led various board games.  And at least Stiles would have been able to cope better.  Stiles was always good at managing his emotions.  Even when his mom died, it was Scott who cried more.  At least Scott wouldn't be dragging the pack down in a sinking pit of depression.  At least Stiles wouldn't be hurting his dad like Scott was hurting his mom.

Scott tried to hug himself tighter, but found he was useless at that too.  He sat like that for a while and at some point he must have fell asleep because when he woke up there were two slices of pizza on his nightstand where there had once been nothing.  It was a thin pizza and looked fairly crunchy, which was how Stiles liked his pizza.  Scott had never been a huge fan of crunchy foods.  Scott missed Stiles.  He missed having someone who knew more about himself than he did.  And more than anything, he wished Stiles was somehow here with him.  Or that he was there with Stiles.

Downstairs, there was a knock at the door.  Melissa looked curiously at Isaac who shrugged, sniffed, and then quickly sat up straight.  He quickly went to the door and soon Derek Hale was strolling into the room.  His expression was somewhere between sincerity and annoyance, a look Melissa and Isaac were sure only Derek could pull off.  He looked around before his eyes found Melissa.

"Do you mind if I try to talk to him?"  He asked, pointing upstairs.  Melissa smiled to herself.  Of course Derek would be here for Scott.  She nodded and watched as the oldest werewolf in the house disappeared.  Isaac started after him and stopped, likely because Derek told him.  Derek was skipping steps, Melissa could tell by the sound of only three heavy footsteps. 

"Well, this is either a really good idea or a really bad one."  Isaac muttered out loud before going back to his pizza.  Melissa rolled her eyes.  She knew he was joking, but at the same time, she felt hesitant.  She shook it off.  Of course Derek could fix this.  I mean, out of anyone in Beacon Hills, he knew the most about loss, right?

Scott was dreaming, remembering the scene all over again. 

_The pure black of Stiles' eyes as the Nogitsune struggled to maintain control.  Scott shook his head, tears streaming down his face._

_"No Stiles, please don't make me-"_

_"Come on Scotty, it'll be okay."  Stiles said, and it was Stiles speaking, Scott was sure._   _Still Scott shook his head._

_"Please Stiles, please."  He begged as Stiles drew closer.  He was looking into Scott's eyes, a peaceful smile on his face.  And Scott thought maybe there was another way.  He felt the blood before his brain could register what it was.  
_

_"No, nononono please Stiles no.  No, please," he repeated as he looked down and saw the blood oozing onto his hand.  Stiles face contorted into one of rage and then Stiles regained control again.  Scott was breaking down.  Everything was going wrong, this was not part of the plan.  This wasn't supposed to happen.  
_

_"Scott, it's okay.  It's not your fault.  Don't blame yourself.  Scott.  Listen to me."  Scott could barely bring his face up to meet Stiles'.  That's when the Nogitsune took control again.  The smile on Stiles' face grew colder, more sinister.  
_

_"You killed me Scott," it said in Stiles' voice.  "Your best friend's blood is on your hands.'  
_

_  
_Scott woke up screaming and crying as Derek came into the room.  The Hale stopped, unsure of what to do.  He had been expecting a somber, despondent Scott.  Not the hysterical 18-year-old that was having an emotional breakdown on Scott's bed.  He mentally cursed as he slowly lowered himself onto the bed.  He had barely managed to wrap his around Scott when the younger werewolf collapsed into him.

"I'm sorry Stiles," he muttered in a broken voice.  "I'm so sorry."  Derek said nothing as he relived his own memories.  Slowly, quietly he just held onto Scott and let the boy cry.


	2. Don't

_'You know,_  Peter's voice whispered in Derek's ear as Scott continued to thrash in his arms, calling out the name of his late best friend.   _'If Scott is really that bad, maybe we should just give him what he wants.  It's a win-win really.  He gets to be with Stiles, we don't have to suffer through his moping, and I get to be Alph-_  Derek had stopped his uncle then by nearly strangling the man and threatening to kill him a third time and promising he wouldn't come back.

As Melissa came upstairs to check on Scott, she saw him slowly begin to relax in Derek's arm.  His eyes slowly fluttered open as his breathing slowed down.  He took deep shaky breaths before crying again.  Melissa instinctively went forward and ruffled the boy's hair.  He closed his tears and tried sitting up.  Derek didn't stop him and Melissa blinked, having almost forgotten about Derek.  She sighed.

"I'll leave you guys alone now.  It'll be okay Scott."  She said, her tone automatic and yet still so full of conviction.  Derek had forgotten what moms sounded like as Melissa slowly left the room, not taking her eyes off her son until she was gone.  Scott's eyes were dry and his voice low when he asked Derek why the latter was in his room.  Derek opened his mouth to answer, but to his surprise he didn't really have an answer.  He had originally planned simply to talk to Scott, but after the scene he had just witnessed, talking seemed useless.

Scott sniffled and rubbed his eyes dry.  "Look, I know that I'm messing stuff up right now alright.  Just-" Scott was surprised when Derek pulled him into a halfway hug.  He'd never thought of Derek as a hugger and truth be told, Derek wasn't.  But Derek understood this.  Derek knew pain and self-blame and what it was like to be your own worst enemy.  

"It's alright.  I understand.  I do Scott.  If you want to talk about it..." Derek let his sentence hang because he knew Scott didn't want to talk about.  He knew Scott didn't want to think about it, even though it was the only thing on his mind.    But even if Scott wanted to pretend the cloud of sadness wasn't there and that there was nothing to talk about, Derek knew his  words meant  _something._ And that's what was important.  Scott needed something.  Anything to hold on to.

Predictably, Scott said nothing, but he made no move to move off Derek.  Thinking back, Derek wished he'd had someone to do this for him after the fire.  Sure Laura would track him down on occasion, ask how he was doing, take him out for dinner.  And on holidays, she would drag Cora back to the states and they would find some fancy restaurant made for families who were too busy to cook their own Christmas or Thanksgiving dinners.  They would make small talk, maybe see a movie, but soon Laura and Cora would be gone and Derek would be alone again.  He remembered that he had once told Scott that they were brothers.  Then, Derek had just been trying to get the boy to join his pack.  But after everything, Derek was damn sure he wouldn't leave Scott.  From that thought, another formed.  And soon the chain formed into an idea.  Derek wasn't sure it would work, but he didn't have much to lose.

The two stayed like that for what may have been ten minutes or may have been an hour.  When Derek turned to look at Scott, the latter was sleeping.  Derek ran his fingers through the boy's hair.  It was wrong seeing Scott like this.  Out of everyone Derek knew, Scott was the one person who should have never been like this.  He was so cold.  So...human.  Derek cautiously stood up and tried to move away only to realize Scott was clinging to his shirt.  He sighed and sat back down.  At some point, Derek knew he would have to stop babying his Alpha.  But that time wasn't now.  He sighed.  Carefully, he maneuvered himself and Scott so that he could lean against the headboard while Scott curled up next to him.  When Melissa came up minutes later, both boys were sleep. 

The scene bought a smile to her face.  Part of her had always wanted Scott to have a brother, but it never panned out.  She realized ironically that now Scott kind of had a brother in Isaac.  Two, she thought as she looked at the two sleeping werewolves on her biological son's bed. 

It would several hours later, around six maybe, when Derek woke up.  Scott was still curled next to him, holding on so tight and looking so upset Derek thought his Alpha might be having another nightmare.  Sure enough, his breathing began to grow quicker and heavier and his hands began twitching.  Derek could hear the words forming in the back of his throat.  Quickly, but cautiously, Derek squeezed Scott's hand.  With his other hand, he began stroking the boy's hair the same he would to Cora after the fire.

"Shh, Scott, it's okay."  Derek whispered, his voice sounding strange to him.  Derek pushed the thought of his mind as Scott attempted to bring himself closer to Derek.  He was crying, but was still mostly sleep and Derek found himself wondering what the boy was seeing in his dreams.  His breathing had steadied somewhat, but Derek could still hear Scott's heart violently ramming against his ribcage.

"Stiles, I'm sorry." Scott cried.  Derek noticed a movement from the corner of his eye and quickly lifted his head.

"You're really good at that."  Isaac said.  His voice was light, but simultaneously held a certain seriousness to it.  Of course it did, Derek thought.  Isaac knew that from experience.  Dryly, he realized that he had a lot of experience in comforting troubled younger werewolves suffering from nightmares.  Derek scoffed as he turned his head to avoid looking at Isaac.  

"Practice makes perfect."  He muttered coolly.  Isaac nodded, a question lingering in the back of his throat.

"Is he going to be okay?  I mean, he's so cold.  For werewolves that's...really bad isn't it?"  Melissa chose then to make her appearance.  She was dressed in scrubs and it was clear she was going to work.  Derek gave her a nod, but her piercing eyes made it obvious she had heard Isaac's question and wanted an answer.  Derek sighed and slowly untangled himself from Scott, making sure not to wake the latter.  Derek made a gesture and the three conscious people made their way downstairs.

Melissa began making coffee as Derek tried forming an answer to Isaac's question in his mind.  

"So...?" Isaac asked and Derek gave him a look.  He sighed again.

"To answer your question, no.  It's never good for a werewolf to be that cold.  I'm pretty sure he's cool even by human standards."  A look at Melissa confirmed Derek's fears.

"Is it..." Melissa stopped her question, frowned and then changed it.  "Can he get better?"  Derek had been expecting the question and was glad he had thought of the answer beforehand.

"Essentially," he began. "What's happening is that Scott's human side is repressing the wolf side.  I don't know if you've noticed his senses being not as sharp or his other powers being intermittent." Melissa took mental notes on Derek's words like she would a regular human one.  

"By itself it's not..." Derek paused for a word.  "Bad.  But of course, it means he won't heal as quickly.  He can get sick.  His asthma might even come back at this rate."  At this, both Melissa and Isaac looked alarmed and Derek couldn't blame them.  This was serious.

"Can something be done?  Maybe Deaton has some, like, werewolf-grade antidepressants or something.  Right?"  Isaac's face fell when Derek answered his question with a silent shake of his head.  He turned to look at Melissa.

"I have something of an idea, though."  Melissa visibly straightened up.  Her eyes were eager, but Derek could see the caution in her body language and he decided he probably could have worded that better.  Even Isaac looked wary.  Again, though, Derek couldn't blame him.  Ice baths couldn't be pleasant.

"It's nothing like that," he said to Isaac.  "I was thinking, maybe I could take him away for a little bit."  He said this to Melissa, whose expression was unclear.  Finally, she nodded slowly in understanding.

"To get him out of Beacon Hills," she said, mostly to herself.  "I was just going to take some time off from the hospital for spring break."

"I know after the fire, I...getting out of Beacon Hills was really something I needed."

"Weren't you gone for a couple years?"  Isaac asked.  Derek suppressed the urge to glare at him.  Honestly, Isaac had the worst timing.

"I was thinking; Today's Saturday.  I could take him later today or maybe tonight and be back Sunday morning at the latest."  Melissa's mouth was in a firm line and Derek could tell she wanted to come with.

"I want to come," she admitted.  "But I know that if I took off from work, Scott would just get upset with himself for putting that on me.  Plus, maybe the less connections the better this time."  Derek didn't respond although he agreed completely with Melissa's reasoning.  The nurse took a deep breath.

"Okay.  I don't know what it says about me that I'm letting my 18-year-old son take a road trip with an older man I've only met a handful of times, but I know I can trust you."  The words hit Derek hard.  Even after everything he had done, Melissa trusted him.  She must have seen the look on his face because she chuckled.

"I remember one time, when the Alpha pack was here.  Scott told me that of everyone he knows, he trusted you to keep me safe.  And not just me.  Allison, Lydia, Stiles, John.  Everyone."  Derek wasn't sure how to respond.  How could he?  Scott trusted his mother to Derek.  And now Melissa was trusting her son to him.  He scratched his head and looked down to hide the grin that was struggling to show on his face.  Melissa laughed as she grabbed her mug.

"Well I'll get to work before I make you turn any more red.  Just tell me before you leave, okay?"  Derek risked looking up to nod at her.  The grin dissipated when he saw Isaac wearing the most mischievous, shit-eating grin he had ever seen on the boy.  Isaac looked away when he noticed Derek glaring at him.

* * *

 

As soon as Danny stepped into the loft, Ethan tackled him to the ground.  The taller boy half yelped and half laughed when Ethan bought their lips together.  He started pushing further into the kiss before a courtesy tap on the back of his head reminded him that Danny was not as adept as holding his breath as Ethan was.  When the Beta lifted his head, Danny took a deep, greedy breath.  Ethan smiled sheepishly.

"You might literally be the death of me, you know that?"  Danny asked with a grin.  Ethan smiled wider before planting another kiss onto the human.  His human.  Even if he did smell like another wolf.

"I missed you."  Ethan said, still laying on top of Danny who seemed resigned to his spot on the ground.  

"I know, I'm sorry.  Jackson's been really needy lately."  Ethan got up at this, sitting in front of Danny who also sat up.  Ethan's head was cocked to the side that reminded Danny, like everything Ethan did, of a little kid.

"Right, you and him were like bros, right?"  Ethan asked, leaning forward slightly.  Danny nodded in response and Ethan looked concerned.  Danny smiled wistfully before seeing his boyfriend's face and leaning forward to kiss him.

"What's wrong?  Are you jealous?"  Danny's voice was amused and Ethan turned a light red.

"N-no, I was just wondering if you two were ever...you know..." Danny raised a michievous eyebrow and burst into laughter when Ethan pouted.  He scooted over so that he was sitting beside the werewolf.

"Me and Jackson?  No, we never were a thing.  Loathe as he is to accept it, he's not my type."  There was a twinkle in Danny's eye that made Ethan grin.  Or it might have been that, unlike with Aiden, Jackson posed no threat to Ethan's love life.  A look at Danny's face, however, made Ethan's face fall.

"What's wrong?"  Danny gave Ethan a serious look in response.

"You don't think that Jackson and Aiden would, you know..." Danny looked extremely uncomfortable, scared even.  He didn't have to finish his sentence for Ethan to understand his fears.  If he were honest with himself, Ethan would confirm that he sometimes had the same worries.  Although Jackson and Aiden really hadn't been in contact as of yet, both boys were aggressive, arrogant, and neither was known much for sharing.  And the thought of the two teenagers fighting over a girl was frightening to say the least.  

"I don't think they'd actually do anything.  I mean, Lydia doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd let people actually hurt themselves over her."  Ethan answered tensely.  Truthfully, he had only been in Lydia's presence a handful of times and even in those situations he had never really talked to her.  Still, it seemed to bring Danny some comfort.

"Yeah, I guess she wouldn't."  Danny said, a smile slowly spreading over his face.  His eyes lit up when he began speaking again.  "I'm pretty sure she learned not to let it get that far when Jeremy almost beat the shit out of St...Stiles."  Ethan nearly winced at the name.  It was amazing how one person could touch lives so deeply.  Most of what Ethan knew about Stiles, he had learned after the boy's death.  Even if the two had barely talked, Ethan still missed him.  He still felt a longing for Stiles.  Well, he felt Scott's longing for Stiles.  It hurt all the same.  Ethan quickly stood up and shook his head before the dark thoughts of Stiles could take root.  It was bad enough that the late Nogitsune host was starting to invade his dreams.

"Let's not talk about him now."  Ethan said quickly.  He leaned in for a kiss, but Danny quickly moved back, a hurt and horrified expression on his face and Ethan sighed, sitting back down.

"Look," he began.  "I know that he was your friend.  I do.  And maybe you can talk with Lydia or someone about him.  But..."

"But what?  Since he wasn't your friend, he's not important?"  Danny asked, his voice harsh.  Ethan shook his head.

"No, no that's not it at all.  Look, Scott's really bent out of shape over Stiles okay.  And...it's transmitting to all of the other werewolves in his pack.  I know you're sad about it Danny, I can feel it.  I have to constantly keep myself occupied otherwise I'm just bombarded by memories that aren't even mine."  Danny could only watch and listen as the words poured out of Ethan's mouth.  Sometimes the names changed.  Sometimes, he'd stop talking about Stiles altogether, only to start thinking about the boy again.  Of course Danny had heard about what Ethan and his brother had done in the past.  Everyone in the pack had warned him about the twins and how cruel they were and such.  And listening to Ethan now, Danny could see that Scott's depression wasn't just making Ethan feel sad.  It was bringing all sorts of things to the surface.  Things Ethan never wanted to think about again.  Whenever Stiles' name came up, Danny could see that they weren't Ethan's words.  They were Scott's.  Scott McCall, whose depression was beginning to spread to everyone he cared about.

Danny crashed his lips into Ethan's to stop him from talking.  It was too much.  Ethan gratefully leaned deeper into the kiss.  Sure, Danny had years of good memories about Stiles, but Scott had more.  And hearing them from Ethan's mouth was just too wrong.  Danny again felt himself falling onto the floor, but this time it was a much gentler fall.  He felt Ethan smile against his lips.

"Thank you." He whispered.

* * *

 

Deaton was slightly surprised to see Derek walk into his clinic, even though the man knew it was only a matter of time before one of Scott's pack members came in looking for a way to cheer up their Alpha.  Isaac had come by with Melissa several times already and even a few times on his own.  

"Derek, it's nice to see you."  Derek nodded cordially, but it was obvious he was in something of a rush.

"Can you give Scott off for spring break?"  It was one of the few things that caught Deaton completely off-guard.  He had been expecting a question about Scott, but spring break was a complete non-variable.  He realized Derek's plan quickly though.

"Where are you going to take him?"  The vet asked as he pulled out a clipboard with the hours of his employees.  It wouldn't be too hard to give Scott the week off since he was already working a very light schedule.  Nothing Deaton himself wouldn't be able to handle.

"Nevada, probably Mexico."  Deaton nodded, still rearranging the schedules.  As the emissary to the Hale family, he had somewhat kept up with the lives of the living Hales and had heard many of the stories involving Derek, Laura, and Cora.  Once he was done, Deaton looked back up at Derek.

"Any plans once you're out there?"  

"Not really.  I just know sometimes, you just need to step away for a while.  If nothing else, hopefully I can warm him up a bit."  Deaton nodded approvingly although Derek could tell he had something else to say.  Derek gave him a pointed look and Deaton sighed.

"Just look out for him Derek.  You know, I've heard stories of the Hale children."  Derek laughed as memories of his self-imposed exile bubbled to the surface.  Sure, most of them were painful or, at best, lonely, but some were better.  Even depressed werewolf orphans can have a little fun on occasion.

"Don't worry," Derek said.  "It won't be anything like that.  I guess I just want him to know there's so much more out there.  A bit of fun won't hurt him though."  It was Deaton's turn to chuckle.

"You forget, Derek, I've heard about your 'fun' and it very well  _could_  get him hurt."  Despite his words, Deaton had a grin on his face.  Derek didn't have too many memories of Deaton.  Whenever the man had come over to do his emissary work, it was very formal and businesslike.  Talia would call him to the house, they would talk, and then he would leave.  

"Deaton, can I ask you something?"  

"Of course Derek.  What do you want to know?"  Deaton asked, expecting something about rituals or another facet of druid knowledge.

"What did you do after the fire?"  The vet blinked, unsure quite how to answer the unexpected question.  Derek's expression was calm and patient, but with enough curiosity Deaton could tell just how long he had been around Scott and Stiles.  Deaton hummed as he tried to form an answer.

"Well, Talia put me in charge of all the affairs, so that was my first job.  After that, I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I ended up doing a lot of little things.  I did work for a few other packs, worked in a bank for a bit.  Tried my hand at owning a restaurant, became a mechanic, got a degree in psychology, stuff like that.  My sister and I mostly kept the Beacon Hills perimeter clear.  But after a while, not doing anything got boring.  So I opened this place."  It didn't surprise Derek to find out Deaton managed to fit years of studies into such a relatively short time period.  Or that he became a licensed vet on a whim.

"Thank you."  Derek said after a long pause.  An amused sound escaped from Deaton's throat.

"For what?"

"For always being here.  I never really thought about it until recently, just how long you've been in my life.  And, I never gave you any credit for it.  So thanks."  Deaton's smile grew wider against his will.

"Of course, Derek.  It was my job."  Derek shook his head in response.

"No, your job is just to keep the peace between the packs around here.  But you've done more than that.  When me, Laura, and Cora left our station, you stayed behind so that our legacy would continue.  You're the one who helps Scott when everything goes to hell around here.  You've gone far beyond the call of duty."  Deaton's laugh reminded Derek of Dumbledore from the Harry Potter movies.

"Well thank you for that Derek, it really means a lot coming from you.  And I'm honored you think so highly of me."  Deaton was about to continue, but stopped decided to simply take the compliment.  Derek was the kind  of person who kept going until he felt he made his point.  Seeing that his compliment was finally be taken, Derek gave Deaton a final good-bye before departing.

Seconds later, Jackson was charging into the vet clinic, annoyance clear on his face and a small Pomeranian.  Deaton tried to keep the smile off his face when the boy spoke.

"Don't you have some kind of werewolf anti-depressants?"  He demanded, much to Deaton's amusement.  It was hilarious how Jackson managed to stay irritated and confident despite carrying what Deaton was sure to be the most demasculating dog in Beacon Hills.

"I'm afraid not, Jackson. Sorry.  I did hear Scott is taking a trip for spring break however."  Jackson's scowl deepened as he thrust the dog towards Deaton.

"Prada needs a bath."

* * *

 

Scott wasn't sure how Derek had convinced him to go on this road trip.  It was dumb and all Scott wanted to do was to curl up in his bed and reminince about his best friend.  Yet here he was, standing outside his house with two gym bags stuffed with clothes to last the week and a few toiletries his mom forced him to bring.  True to his word, Derek arrived at the McCall house at exactly 6:30 in the evening.  Scott moved to put his stuff in the trunk, but noticed Derek's bags in the back and tossed his stuff back there as well.  Melissa sighed and wrapped Scott in a hug that, had he been feeling more like himself, would have made Scott embarrased.

"Love you Scott.  You two be good."  Melissa said.  Derek's curious expression made her feel suddenly self-conscious.  Who told a pair of adult werewolves to be good?

"Love you mom."  Scott mumbled as he opened the passenger side door and almost literally dropped into the car.  In one lazy motion, he closed the door and pulled on his seatbelt.  She sighed as Derek drove off.  Derek had said something about Mexico, which didn't keep Melissa from getting worried.  Her mom senses didn't stop tingling when Derek mentioned he knew people down there.  She jumped when Isaac spoke next to her.

"Don't worry, Derek won't let anything happen to him."  Isaac was glowing.

"What's with you?"  She asked suspiciously.  Isaac said nothing, but his smile grew even wider.  Melissa sighed and rolled her eyes.  She gave one last look at Derek's convertible before heading inside.  Derek found himself rolling his eyes at Isaac.

"Me and Stiles were going to have a road trip one day."  Scott said sadly.  Derek nodded.

"Yeah, I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried making this chapter lighter, since it's really depressing writing things like that first chapter. For those masochists out there who love making themselves miserable with depressed Scott being depressing, there'll be some of that next chapter.
> 
> As usual, this is unbeta'd, so if you see any mistakes, feel free to tell me.


	3. Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm horrible at updating. Still, I hope you enjoy.

"Sup?"  Aiden said as he descended the stairs to where Ethan and Danny were eating.  Ethan simply nodded his head while Danny waved.  He still hadn't quite gotten used to the presence of his boyfriend's brother and the sheer force of will that always accompanied him.  Wherever Aiden went, he walked as if he were in charge.  Danny supposed Ethan must look the same to everyone else.  It was uncomfortable nonetheless when Aiden sat down at the table. 

The twins' garage was mostly empty and everything that was there had been bought there shortly after they started high school.  Again.  The only real electronic items they had was a fridge and a microwave, despite Danny constantly bugging them to get more stuff.  According to the twins, they got what they needed when they needed it.  It was a philosophy extremely similar to Jackson's.  In a way, a lot of the things the twins did, Aiden in particular, reminded Danny of Jackson.  It was funny how two people who were so similar could be so aggressive with each other.

"What?"  Aiden's voice cut Danny from his thoughts. 

"Um...nothing, sorry."  Danny responded.  Aiden raised a curious eyebrow and made it clear he had no intention of dropping the subject.  Danny glanced over to Ethan, but he too seemed curious as to what Danny was about to say.  The sole human in the room sighed.

"It's nothing really.  I was just thinking how, you kinda remind of me of Jackson."  His voice didn't sound nearly as strong as he had hoped it would, as evidenced by Ethan reassuringly teasing laugh.  Both of Aiden's eyebrows went up with intrigue.  He nodded slowly for a minute.

"Yeah, I can see that.  Honestly, he seems like a pretty cool guy."  Aiden replied finally and his words took Danny by surprise.

"Really? You think?  Then why are you two-"

"Look," Aiden said after a quick sigh.  "I think Jackson's a cool guy and all, but as long as Lydia's there, I don't exactly see us being BFF's."  Danny snorted at that.  It made sense really.  He wondered if it was even about Lydia.  Maybe it was just about showing off who the tougher man was.  The thought made Danny laugh again.

"By the way, shouldn't you be getting home soon?"  Aiden asked, earning him a glare from his brother.  Aiden cast Ethan a knowing glance as Danny finished his cereal.  As much as he didn't want to leave, Danny figured it was probably a good idea.  After all, he had been for about two days straight and Aiden probably needed his space to do whatever it was werewolves do.

"Yeah I guess so."  Ethan groaned his dismay.  Danny was the only source of amusement in the garage since Aiden had no real desire to build the place up.  If they wanted to watch TV or something, they could just go to McCall's house.  Scott's mom, Melissa had officiated an open door policies to Scott's pack members, aside from Peter, as long as either Scott or Isaac were at the house.  It was brave of her, if nothing else.  It would be a cold day in hell before Aiden or Ethan allowed anyone they weren't sleeping with to come into their garage.  Pack or not. 

Aiden watched as his brother led Danny out of the garage.  A part of him smiled, even if his face didn't show it.  He was happy his brother found someone who made him so happy, even if it did turn him into a little pansy at times.  He thought a bit about Lydia and sighed.  This Jackson thing was starting to be a real problem.

* * *

It was the beginning of day two of their drive and Derek had only stopped a handful of times and that was for gas.  Even by werewolf standards, his ability to forgo sleep was astounding.  At one point he forced himself to stay awake to keep the dreams at bay.  Looking at Scott, he could tell his Alpha was doing the opposite - he was hurting himself on purpose.  The dreams were his atonement and Derek had spent the better part of an hour deciding whether that was better or worse.  Scott had been sleeping relatively peacefully for most of the trip and Derek grudgingly respected his commitment to avoid the real world.  The boy had only woken up once since the trip began and he was asleep again in the next few minutes.

They were still surrounded by desert when Derek felt it.  It was all of his senses at once seemed to register that Scott's nightmare was beginning.  It was like being punched in the gut and Derek actually had to slow down in order to keep control of the car.  The increasing tempo of Scott's heart rate was far louder than any heartbeat Derek had ever heard before.  He could hear the whimpers beginning in the back of Scott's throat, threatening to soon turn into cries.  Scott's breaths began to lose their rhythm as tears started flowing from his eyes.

"Stiles..." he muttered.  "I'm sorry."

"Scott," Derek urged as Scott became increasingly more upset.  Derek never knew this was what it felt like to be so close to a mourning Alpha.  He found a whole new level of respect for Isaac, which Derek wasn't even sure was possible.

"Scott, it's a dream."  Derek said as he grabbed Scott's shoulder.  Someone honked from behind him and Derek cursed.  He knew that if Scott didn't wake up soon, he would have to pull over.  He carefully glanced upwards to make sure he was still in his lane.  He was but barely.  He was also going about 15mph under the speed limit, while everyone around him was planning on driving at least 15 over.  The cacophony of noises was beginning to make Derek's skin crawl.  Another honk, this one longer and angry.

"Scott!"  Derek called out, but to no avail.  Scott was a tactile person, it was one of many things about him that Derek never understood.  How could someone be so open with touching and being touched by other people.  Derek generally avoided contact when he could, but Scott seemed to thrive on it.  Whether it was Stiles or Allison or Isaac or Kira or anyone else, it didn't matter.  If Scott liked them, he touched them.  It never occurred to Derek before that it was probably the only way to calm Scott down and a hand on the shoulder wasn't going to suffice.  Scott was beginning to sob.  Heavily.

"I didn't want to, I'm sorry!"  Scott screamed, his voice somewhere between desperate and angry.  There was no shoulder and Derek braced himself as he turned his hazards on and slowly pulled off into the dessert sand.  He had gotten specialty tires, just in case he would have to drive in the dessert, but he'd hoped not to have to use them.  It was a bumpy ride, but only Derek seemed to notice.  He found himself wondering who Scott was pleading with right now.  Whoever it was, they were being as harsh as possible because Scott was a mess.  Derek had never seen anyone suffer in a nightmare for so long at one time.

Even though it had been maybe three minutes, to Derek it felt like ten.  At least.  But finally, the car stopped.  Derek turned and was about to grip Scott by the shoulders but stopped himself.  Whoever Scott was dreaming about was clearly giving him enough hell.  Derek took a deep breath and got out of the car.  He walked around the front and opened Scott's door.  Gently but firmly, he framed the sides of the Alpha's head with his hands.

"Scott, I'm here.  It's a dream.  You have to wake up."  Derek wasn't loud, but his voice wasn't soft either.  It was something he had learned with Cora and mastered with Isaac.  Scott's voice dropped a few decibels, but he was still asleep.  Derek noticed for the first time how cold Scott's skin was.  He let go of Scott's face and unbuckled his seat belt. 

Scott gasped as he woke up.  He could still hear the voices from his nightmare and was so captured by them, he didn't even notice Derek pulling him out of the car until Scott was standing on his own two feet.  He looked around and saw the road a few yards away.  There was nothing but sand around him and Derek.  Scott felt his breathing slow down.  In a strange way, the desert was relaxing.  Finally, Scott's eyes fell on Derek.

"I'm sorry I made you stop."  He mumbled, looking down.  Derek sighed and put a hand on Scott's shoulder.

"It's fine.  People were being jackasses anyway."  Derek responded with the smallest of smiles.  Scott's face remained downcast.  The sudden loss of sound was strange to Derek.  One second, Scott had been a sobbing wreck and the next second, he was as cold as his skin.  It was such a harsh departure from the usual Scott.  Derek sat down on the sand and after a few seconds, Scott sat down beside him.

"Is there a way for me to make you the Alpha.  I don't want to be anymore."  Derek heard the sentence underneath Scott's words.  _I just want to stay here and die_.  Derek looked up at the ridiculously blue sky.  The desert had once been one of his favorite places.  There was nothing to see but sand, nothing to listen to but the occasional animal moving, nothing to smell or taste, and best of all, no one to talk to.  Derek could understand what Scott meant.

"No, I don't think there is."  Derek answered.  It was only a half-truth.  As one could expect, Peter had uncovered quite a few ways to take an Alpha's status from them, but on the occasion that didn't involve said Alpha's immediate death, they would likely be crippled beyond repair.  There was another pause and then Scott stood up.

"Alright, well let's go, I guess.  I doubt this is where you wanted to go."  Derek gave Scott a cautious look before slowing standing up.  His eyes met Scott's and instantly he saw what Scott was doing.  Derek could almost literally see the thin mask Scott wore.  The one he wore when he had to go meet people or go to the store.  To anyone who didn't know Scott, it looked like there was nothing wrong.  But Derek knew better.  Partly because he knew Scott better.  And partly because Derek had a far greater mastery of that mask than Scott.

"Scott, you have to let it out."  Derek stated, his eyes not leaving Scott's.  Scott said nothing, but simply dropped back into his seat and closed the door.  Derek sighed and as he went around the car, he barely heard Scott whisper "I don't deserve to cry."  Derek almost mentioned it, but Scott was already facing out the window.  Derek sighed as he started the car. 

Thankfully, the drive over the desert sands hadn't harmed the car, but Derek knew it probably needed a check-up when they got back to civilization.  He took a look at Scott before he turned onto the highway.  Scott wanted to go back to sleep, but his latest nightmare was there whenever he closed his eyes.  The words echoed in his ears until he frantically turned on the radio.  He tensed up in frustration when every station proved to only show static.  He searched around for anything to fill the car with some sort of sound that wasn't the voices in his head.

"Scott?  What's wrong?"  Derek asked, his voice filled with concern.  Scott took a deep breath.

"Nothing."  He lied.  "It's just quiet in here."  Scott took a deep breath and tried to will the yelling away, but to no avail.  Derek could hear Scott's heart hammering, even if his face remained completely stoic. 

 _"He was my only son!"_ Scott jumped at the anger and clarity of his nightmare.  He rubbed his left hand, a habit he had picked up after Stiles' death. 

 _"I can't believe you couldn't protect one person.  How useless are you?"_ Scott's eyes began bouncing around in his skull, desperate to find something to make noise.  Surely Derek had to have some back-up plan.  Had he really come out to the middle of nowhere with no way of playing music.

 _"You promised."_ A tear strolled down Scott's cheek as Derek thankfully plugged his phone into the radio and soon, calming soft-rock was filling the car.  The words didn't matter to Scott.  All he needed was the noise.  Derek said nothing because he understood.  Scott might have been able to endure the nightmares, but not even a true Alpha could handle their echoes.

"So..." Derek said.  He really hadn't thought about the in-between parts of his plan to help Scott.  His major goal had simply been to get Scott out of Beacon Hills and to raise his core temperature a bit.  Scott snorted.

"Man, not even 'how's the weather'?"  There was a smile somewhere in Scott's voice and Derek nearly turned around, but this part of the road was unnecessarily bumpy. 

"We're in the desert.  The weather is hot and dry."  Derek chuckled dryly.

"Have you been out here before?"  Scott watched as Derek's face fell slightly.  Scott wasn't sure if he imagined it or not.

"Yeah, a few times.  It's a nice place to just...take a step back."  Scott nodded as he looked out the passenger window.  Derek was right, it was nice being away from Beacon Hills.  He missed Stiles so much it hurt, but at least here he wasn't constantly reminded of his best friend.  Derek thought about asking Scott to talk but dismissed the idea.  Now wasn't the time.

"We should be there in a few hours."  He said.

"Be where?  You never said where we're going."

"It's a place called Plata Mar.  It's a coastal town." 

"Is it like..." Scott let his sentence hang, unsure if there was some word for supernatural hotspot where werewolves live.  Derek shook his head before answering.

"Not really.  I stumbled on it when I was hanging around Mexico.  It's just a nice place with nice people."  Derek's voice was nostalgic and Scott rarely saw such a serene expression on the young man's face.  It looked strange there, but right as well.

 _"He'd be here if you weren't such a shitty Alpha_. _"_ Scott heard him say.  Instantly, his spine straightened. He turned to face the window when Derek cast a curious glance at him.  Out the corner of his eye, Derek could see Scott folding in on himself.  With a sinking sensation in his stomach, he realized he was at least part of Scott's nightmare.  Irrationally, Derek felt mad at himself for making Scott hurt.  He shook the thought out of his mind.  That was dumb.

"You alright?"  Derek asked.  Scott took a deep breath before answering.

"Yeah.  I just can't sleep."  He answered.  Derek placed the back of his hand on Scott's head, causing the younger of the two to flinch.  Derek left it there for a few seconds before removing.  He still wasn't at an optimal temperature, but Scott was considerably warmer.  Derek scanned the road ahead of them.  He had been driving for the better part of 25 hours now without stop.  He could go longer and be fine, but Plata Mar was only six hours away and Derek didn't mind being a little late.

"How bout we just get a hotel for the day?"  He asked.  Scott turned to look at him.

"Now?"  Derek shrugged in response to Scott's question.

"I've been driving for over a day and when we get to Plata Mar, I don't want to be exhausted."  He reasoned.  Scott shrugged.

"Whatever you want to do."  Derek nodded and drove onto the nearest exit.  It had been a while since he'd been to this part of California, but he remembered enough of it to find a decent hotel.  It was about a three-star, the lowest Derek allowed himself to stay in, and fairly empty.  When Derek arrived at the front desk with Scott, the clerk gave him a suspicious look before handing over the keys.  Derek rolled his eyes as he snatched the keys and walked off with the feeling he was going to get an unpleasant visit within the next few hours.

The hotel was a three story establishment called Oasis that boasted HBO and cable, free wifi, continental breakfasts, and a 10 meter pool.  Compared to the many hotels Derek had stayed in, it was subpar at best, but Scott seemed to like it.

"I don't get out of Beacon Hills much."  He explained.  He could tell Derek was used to much higher quality hotel rooms.  With Scott's mom being one of the head nurses, she rarely got much vacation time and the Stilinski's rarely went on vacations.  Scott tried to stop thinking about vacations with the family he single-handedly destroyed, but he couldn't.  All at once, memories of crappy hotel food and belly flop contests flooded his mind.  He gripped tighter to his bag as he fought to keep tears at bay.  He wished they had at least waited until he was alone.

"Scott!"  Derek called, bringing Scott out of his own head.  Scott sniffled and rubbed his face before turning around to face Derek, who was opening the door to what must have been their room.  It was a nice room.  The carpet was a surprisingly clean navy blue and the walls were covered in a pleasant cyan wallpaper.  There were two twin beds each made with matching black blankets as well as a sofa chair off to the side.  The 30-inch tv stood on top of a freshly polished dresser and of course, the expected end table and lamps resided in between the two beds.

"Nice room."  Scott commented.

"It's alright."

* * *

 

"Hello there, how can I help you?"  Deaton said to the brunette that had walked into his office.  She looked vaguely familiar, but Deaton couldn't place her until she stated her name.

"I'm Malia," she began.  At this Deaton straightened slightly.

"Ah, I've heard about you.  How is everything?"  Malia made a face when Deaton said he'd heard about her, but she regained her composure quickly.

"It's going.  Um, Scott told me to come to you if I needed help with anything."  Deaton nodded and motioned for her to follow him to the back.  Malia hesitated for a minute.  Being in a mental institution, she had heard many horror stories about doctors leading their patients to dark rooms.  She shook that thought out of her head.  Scott trusted Deaton and even at such a low point, he would never put Malia in danger.  That's the kind of person Scott was. 

"Is everything alright?"  Deaton asked, coming back to the front.  Malia shook her head.

"Yeah, I'm fine.  I just got distracted is all." The girl answered as she followed the vet into the back of his clinic.

* * *

It was about 5 in the afternoon when the police knocked on the hotel door - far later than Derek expected them to arrive.  He and Scott had already been in their hotel room for a few hours, but neither felt much reason to leave.  For the most part, Scott alternated between sleeping and talking to Derek about anything and everything in order to cover up the silence.  They had gone out to eat not too long ago, and Derek had a feeling that the clerk had forgotten about them until then.  Scott groaned himself awake as Derek stood up to open the door.

"Hello, sir, I'm Officer Reese with the LAPD."  The woman stated immediately.

"LAPD?"  Derek's brow furrowed.  They were several miles outside of Los Angeles.  The woman quickly confirmed Derek's question, but didn't elaborate.  Derek figured that the town didn't have a police force of its own.

"Well, what do you need?"  Derek and Scott had made plans to leave once Scott woke up, despite the latter's insistence that Derek not try to drive through the night.  The cop's attempted to look into the room, but Derek's frame mostly obscured her view.

"May I enter?"  Derek rolled his eyes as he stepped back, allowing the police officer inside.  Scott titled his head to the side when he saw the officer.  The cop frowned.

"You with him, kid?"  She asked, jabbing a thumb in Derek's direction.  Scott nodded, his expression making it clear he didn't know why this policewoman was in the hotel room.  He blinked the sleep out of his eyes as the woman wrote down some notes.  Derek did nothing but scowl at the woman as she asked Scott various questions that only seemed to make the boy more confused.  Derek was truly hating that clerk right now.

"Mexico?"  The officer asked, the suspicion in her voice almost tangible.  Derek inwardly groaned.

"Yeah, my friend decided to take me there."  Scott replied, painfully oblivious to the woman's implications.  "We were actually about to head out."  Officer Reese hummed suspiciously.

"Your parents know you're here?"  She continued.

"What's this about?" 

"Please answer the question."

"No!"  Scott's outburst made even Derek jump.  After all, it was Scott.  Derek wasn't sure Scott was even capable of getting angry.  "Why are you asking me these questions?  What do you want?"  A feeling of relief stirred in Derek.  As backward as it seemed, Scott's irritation meant that he wasn't completely gone.  There was hope of him recovering.  Derek could see the tension in Officer Reese's body increase.  She took a calming breath and then turned to glance at Derek.  Scott followed her glance.

"Derek, did you get in some kind of trouble last time you were here?" Derek groaned at Scott's questions.

"No, Scott."  Derek sighed exasperatedly.  "I told you I never stayed here."  The confusion in Scott's eyes increased more, which Derek wasn't sure was even possible.  Scott's face bought something else to mind, but Officer Reese clearing her throat, interrupted Derek from his thoughts.

"The reason we're here, Scott, is that-"

"Whoa, you think Derek's a pedo?"  Scott exclaimed suddenly.  There was a sudden silence in the room.  Derek sighed as did Officer Reese.  Both gave Scott a patronizing look.

"Alright look, I'm not getting the feeling that you're here against your will.  And you look old enough to make your own choices."  She looked at Derek and shrugged, as if silently communicating that Scott made a pretty good pick.  Derek's eyes went wide.

"It's not like that.  Just taking a friend to Mexico to catch a break from life for a while."  Officer Reese nodded skeptically as she wrote on her notepad.  She then pulled up her walkie-talkie.

"Yeah, it's all good here.  Just a couple guys going to Mexico, they're both legal."  She spoke as she exited the room, leaving Scott and Derek with equal expressions of shock.  Finally, Derek snorted as he went to close the door.

"And it's only the second night."  He said with a chuckle.


	4. Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm really bad at updating, so I apologize for that. I also apologize for any and alll grammatically incorrect Spanish in this chapter.

Allison stifled a yawn as she pulled into the Martin driveway.  The first thing she noticed was that Aiden's motorcycle and Jackson's car were also in the driveway, blockading the Martin's convertible and filling Allison with a sense of regret.  She knew she should've bought Isaac along with her.  If anything, it would be nice to have a distraction from the hell that would be the three-way dance between Jackson, Lydia, and Aiden.

Allison debated calling Isaac when she noticed the front door opening.  Even from a few yards away, she could clearly see the impatient look on Lydia's face.  What Allison couldn't see, however, was the features of sleeplessness on the shorter girl's face.  Of course, Allison wouldn't have been able to see the signs even up close as they were covered by a very fine layer of makeup.  The reformed werewolf hunter was never a big makeup person and Lydia correctly deduced that her best friend wouldn't be able to notice.

"Come on, we have stuff to do Allison.  Besides, I'm getting sick of all the testosterone."  Lydia said in a voice that in no way hinted at how little sleep she'd had.  Her whole night had been spent on anything to occupy her mind, whether it be student council planning, picking apart the bestiary, or planning a welcome home party for Scott.  Or learning Japanese, which was probably the most difficult.  Lydia made a mental note to talk to Mr. Yukimura about making taking lessons with him or his wife later on.  Lydia Martin would be damned before another Japanese demon came and attacked her friends again.

"Hey."  Allison gave a tired wave to the oldest individual in the room.  Jackson gave Allison a courtesy nod, but it was clear he was still tired.  Aiden snorted at him, which proved quick to wake Jackson up.

"So what do you need me to do?"  Allison asked, resigned to her fate.  She could tell just from a glance that Lydia had been running the two boys like a slave driver and she also knew she was in for.  Lydia's eyes showed no sympathy as she beamed.

"Chapter 5: Druids and Their Offshoots," the shorter girl answered, pointing to the hunter's bestiary.  Allison sighed as she walked over to small book, vaguely remembering lending it to Lydia only a few weeks ago, and began reading.

"A warlock is a corrupted druid who is more magic than man," Allison began.  She tensed at the sound of a loud pop and turned to see Aiden wielding a staple gun and looking at some sort of banner.  Frustration was etched all over his face.  The huntress turned to the opposite side to see Jackson flipping through a physics book, writing on notecards.  She then noticed the impressive stack of notecards beside him.

"Keep going Allison.  How do you fight a warlock?"  Lydia chirped.  Allison watched as Lydia looked between the paper she was writing on and her laptop, which was playing some sort of anime.  Allison silently wondered what it was about as she turned back to the book.

"Warlocks are extremely dangerous as they possess the abilities to manipulate the elements around them, control unsuspecting minds, and most importantly - they are completely devoid of any form of humanity.  Warlocks are often driven to locales of high mythical energy in order to bolster their power.  Despite their power, their bodies are human and they can be killed in any way a human can.  Depending on how powerful the warlock may be, he or she might be able to heal.  Quick and decisive blows are recommended."  Allison looked up and Lydia showed no sign of hearing her.

"Um..."

"Don't worry Allison," Lydia cut her best friend's question off.  "I heard you.  Warlocks are glass cannons; powerful but relatively easy to defeat.  What's next?"  Allison gave an exasperated look to Jackson who rolled his eyes. 

"Um, next is the Darach."  Allison answered, memories of the Darach creeping from her mind.

"Skip it.  I've already read on everything we've dealt with.  What's next?" Lydia's ordered.  Allison looked at the back of Lydia's head, worry present in her eyes.  Allison knew Lydia was brilliant, but there was no way even she could deal with this increased mental load. 

"Next is a witch."  Allison sighed.  She heard Aiden scoff.

"Are you serious?  What, we're gonna fight Harry Potter next?  This is ridiculous."  He groaned.  Allison jumped when Lydia slammed on one of the keys on her laptop and turned to glare at Aiden.  Both Allison and Jackson gave each other concerned looks as Aiden and Lydia locked eyes.  The battle of wills was almost tangible when Mrs. Martin knocked on the door.

"Breakfast anyone?  I brewed tea too.  Much healthier than coffee."  Allison wondered how much Lydia's mom knew about what her daughter was studying as Lydia tore her eyes from Aiden and went to open the door.  As Mrs. Martin glanced around the room, Allison quickly but cautiously hid the bestiary behind her back.  Mrs. Martin smiled at Allison.

"Hey Allison, I didn't know you were here.  I would've used a few more eggs.  I'll head back down real fast."

"Oh no, it's okay Mrs. Martin."  Allison replied quickly.  "I ate on the way here, you don't have to trouble yourself."  Mrs. Martin made an amused expression.

"Well, we only have a few eggs anyway and I'm on a swimsuit diet, so I'll just go ahead and cook them up for you.  I'm sure the boys won't mind eating them if you're not hungry."  It was then that Allison became aware of Jackson and Aiden enthusiastically wolfing down eggs, sausage, and bacon.  Allison hadn't realized just how much food Lydia's mom had cooked.  It again made Allison wonder just how much the woman knew about the world her daughter lived in.  Had she just overestimated the metabolism of teenage boys?  Or was she fully aware that she was feeding two extremely hungry werewolves?  Allison looked up to see Mrs. Martin wink one last time before closing her daughter's door.

"Well I guess we'll just take a breakfast break."  Lydia muttered in a tight voice as she placed two pancakes from the large pile onto her plate.  Allison found herself wondering how Mrs. Martin managed to bring all this stuff up a flight of stairs in one trip.

"You are allowed to eat, Allison."  The strawberry blonde sighed, causing Allison to come up from her thoughts.  With a small smile, Allison got up from Lydia's bed.  She too only grabbed a couple of pancakes, pausing a second to notice the small bits of fruit imbedded in them. 

"Allison," Aiden called out.  Allison turned just in time to recognize there was a syrup bottle sailing towards her.  She caught it without any issue.

"You want any?"  She asked, motioning the bottle towards Lydia who declined.

"No one in this house actually eats syrup. Too much sugar.  We just keep it for guests."  Aiden's face was somewhere between skeptical and outraged and Allison nearly laughed.  Her eyes then landed on Lydia's laptop.

"Um, hey, what's up with the cartoons?"  Allison asked.  Lydia didn't skip a beat in answering.

"I'm working on Japanese and I read that this is one of the more efficient methods." 

"How's it going?"  Lydia smiled and replied in a string of Japanese that caught Allison completely by surprise.  Allison shook her head.

"There will be a day, Lydia Martin, where I'm not completely astounded by how brilliant you are."  The huntress was completely serious.  How someone could learn whole languages in such short amounts of time was unreal.  Maybe it was a Banshee thing.

"Maybe."  Was all Lydia said in response.

* * *

Scott wasn't sure to think of when he had first heard the name Plata Mar.  His Spanish was decent, but because the McCalls only spoke English at home, he was nowhere near fluent.  He actually had to google the words to learn that Plata Mar meant 'silver sea'.  Scott knew that if Stiles were there, he would have made some comment about their being no seas anywhere in Mexico and that the name was a complete misnomer.  Derek would probably glare at him and Stiles would hide behind Scott's authority as Alpha.  The imaginary scene bought a painful smile to Scott's face.

"You alright?"  Derek asked, bringing Scott out of his thoughts.

"Yeah," Scott answered after a few seconds.  "Just thinking about stuff." 

"Stiles?"  Derek asked unnecessarily.  Scott was always thinking about Stiles in some way.  The younger male didn't even have to respond.  Instead he looked out the window.

"You know he used to be the popular one?"  Scott spoke up after a few more seconds of silence.  Derek glanced over without turning his head.  They were in Mexico, only a few miles away from Plata Mar, and Derek knew how crazy drivers could be in this area.  He and Scott would probably be fine in the off-chance they crashed, but it was a risk Derek refused to take.  Scott continued without waiting for Derek to respond.

"I moved to Beacon Hills when I was like six and back then I was this really scrawny asthmatic kid and Stiles was always the center of attention at school.  He was always telling some crazy story or being a smartass to the teachers and everyone was really into him."  Derek sneaked a quick look to notice that Scott was blankly staring out the windshield, as if he were reciting a movie rather than a memory.  Derek turned his attention back to the road as his Alpha continued.

"That was when my mom and dad were fighting a lot, pretty much about everything.  I actually loved going to school because there I didn't have to hear them argue.  I came in the middle of the school year because of my dad's job and I didn't really talk to anyone.  It was recess when I first talked to Stiles and everyone was playing something.  Kickball, I think.  I couldn't play, obviously, so I just kinda hung out.  So everyone starts getting upset because the teams are uneven and half of them wanted to make me play and the other half wanted to kick someone off.

Finally, Stiles screams at the top of his lungs "enough" and he just walks over to me.  I think everyone thought he was going to make me play, but he just plopped down right beside me and started talking to me about how his dad was this awesome cop who chased bad guys and stuff."  There was a wistful smile on Scott's face now and although Derek couldn't see it, he could hear it.  It was nice hearing Scott talking in a tone that wasn't sad.

"I didn't find out till the end of that year that Stiles' mom was sick.  I think that's when we started being friends.  He was losing his mom, my dad was spending more and more time at work.  He was popular and funny and talked a lot, and I didn't.  I guess we just kind of fit together.  Of course, since I could never play any games and Stiles always sat out with me, all the other kids stopped talking to him.  I always felt about that.

I never got to say sorry."  Scott's voice dropped and Derek did the only thing he knew how, placing a hand on Scott's shoulder.  Only the soft music filled the car now and the echoes of Scott's story.  In a way, the whole thing made sense to Derek.

"If you don't mind me saying," Scott turned to look at Derek expectantly.  "I don't think you needed to say sorry.  I don't think Stiles for a second ever regretted choosing you over them."  Derek took another look at Scott and couldn't help but smile at the small grin on the latter's face.

"Thanks Derek."

The next few hours went by quietly and by the time the two boys arrived at their destination, it was nearly 10 at night.   Even though he said he hadn't been there in years, Derek managed to navigate the place perfectly.  From what Scott could make out, Plata Mar wasn't a big town and as far as he could see there was nothing particularly special about it.  Still, it had a small-town feel that made it actually seem comfortable.

They quietly checked into an inn room and while the receptionist gave Derek a second and third glance, she said nothing.  Scott had no idea that Derek spoke Spanish fluently and part of him felt vaguely self-conscious for not being able to himself.  The room they were to stay in was small with only a bathroom, a bed, a pull-out chair, and a radio on the desk.  Even Scott had to admit, he had been to better rooms.

"I'll take the chair."  Both boys said simultaneous which led to an awkward laugh between the two.

"It's fine man, you've been driving all day.  The bed's yours."  Scott declared as he moved towards the chair.  Derek blocked his progress with a forearm.

"It's alright Scott, I've slept in worse places.  I'll be fine.  Go ahead."  He countered, which led to the two trading reasons for the other having the bed.  It was thirty minutes before Derek finally came up with a compromise.

"How about we both get the bed.  It's big enough."  Scott glanced at the bed and then at Derek and shrugged.  The older werewolf was right, the bed would be able to fit the two of them even though it might be a little tight.

"Deal."  Scott said as he moved towards the bed.  As he slid onto the bed, Scott caught the conflicted look on Derek's face.

"You alright?"  He asked.  Derek hesitated before answering.

"Yeah, I'm good."  Derek replied as he slid into the bed and faced the opposite way as Scott.

The two were awoken the next morning by a knock at the door.  Scott slowly woke up and the first thing he noticed was the lack of warmth he had gone to sleep with.  He turned over to see Derek rising from the chair.  The two gave each other knowing grins as Scott sat up and Derek stood up to walk to the door.

"Sorry, went to the bathroom after you fell asleep and figured I'd go ahead and give you the bed."  Derek said as he opened the door.  When Scott heard the rapid-fire Spanish that reminded him of his grandmother and saw Derek jumped, he instantly jumped off the bed.

The woman in the doorway was a small, round woman with short curly black hair and dark skin that had spent much time in the sun.  It was difficult to tell her age, but the glee in her eyes was unmistakable.  She wrapped short arms around Derek and pulled the significantly taller and younger male into a tight hug.  It would have been comical had Scott not been able to feel the nervousness radiating off of Derek.  The woman didn't smell like any supernatural creature or like the hunters that Scott had run into before.  She smelled like sun and the beach and summer, and Scott could also recognize various other spices and foods.  Still, Scott felt tense around her.

"Um, hi, I mean, hola."  Scott spoke up.  The woman released Derek and looked at Scott.  Then she looked back up at Derek with a sly grin that made Scott feel nervous.

"Ooh Derek," she squealed.  "¿Quien es eso chico guapo?  ¿Tu novio nuevo?"  The woman cooed.  Derek went pale as Scott struggled to remember words from his high school Spanish classes.  He knew novio.  Realization dawned on him as soon as Derek started speaking.

"N-no, Sra. Vasquez, solo un amigo.  Estamos aquí para la fin de la semana porque él necesitaba un vacación."  Derek replied quickly.  The woman, Sra. Vasquez, seemed disappointed no.

"Derek, sabes que es Natalia, no es Sra. Vasquez!"  She responded with a chuckle.  She gave Scott a coy smirk before she said something else to Derek and disappeared from the doorway.  Scott could hear Derek's heart hammering inside his chest as the awkward silence hung around the air.

"So, how much of that did you catch?"  Derek asked after a few more seconds.  Scott's brain was still attempting to muddle it's way through Natalia's ridiculously fast speech and the only thing he could manage was "she thought I was your boyfriend?"  Derek sighed.

"Yeah."  Derek replied, trying for a detached coolness but coming across as more awkward.

"I didn't know you were- So you go both ways?"  Scott asked.  Neither of the two boys had moved from their spots by the door.  Derek shrugged in response.

"I mean, all ways if you want to be technical about it."  Derek wasn't sure why he had never told Scott.  It wasn't as if he had been keeping a secret, it had just never come up.  Now that it had, however, the older werewolf felt the nagging desire to make sure Scott approved.  The younger of the two looked at him as if he were some sort of puzzle and then shook his head with a grin.

"Definitely didn't see that coming," he said.  Derek watched as Scott walked over to the chair and sat down, several emotions on his face.  Derek's own facial features contorted into a concerned expression as he sat down on the bed.  The two sat in silence.

"Is...that okay?"  Derek asked finally and at that, Scott's head shot up, panic on his face.

"Yeah, totally, sorry, I didn't mean...Yeah, it's cool man."  Scott breathed out before his face fell again.  "It's just that-", Scott stopped again and Derek frowned slightly.  It was strange, having someone else know.  Derek was sure that Peter and Cora might have suspected, but he had never bothered telling them.  As his eyes watched Scott, Derek couldn't help but taking account of the boy's features.  There was no denying that Scott was attractive, uneven jaw or not.  His hair had gotten longer, approaching the way it looked when he and Derek had first crossed paths and his face had matured significantly in the past few years.  Still, there was a sort of innocence to him that Derek had never really noticed before.

"So, all those werewolf senses and she still managed to sneak up on you?"  Scott grinned, causing Derek to glare.  Scott continued to laugh as Derek threw a pillow at him.  A part of Derek smiled as well.  It was nice to see Scott laughing and if Derek was any good at being honest with himself, he was smiling because he was the one to make it happen.

* * *

"Isaac, hey.  You, uh got all that?"  Isaac quickly turned around at the sound of his name, nearly dropping the various bags, cans, and assorted foodstuffs that he had been trying to balance on his person.  Expertly maneuvering the junk in his arms to see ahead, Isaac was surprised to see Stiles' dad giving him an amused look.

"No, but uh, thanks.  I've got it.  Werewolf strength and balance and all that."  Isaac responded before turning back to the shelves.  Had Isaac been a less prideful man, he would have at least put down the stuff in his arms before reaching for the extra can of soup.  Granted, a less prideful man likely would have simply gone to get a cart once they realized their grocery list was slightly,  larger than previously expected.  Still, John had to admit that Isaac's successful grabbing of the soup was rather impressive.  At least, it would have been, had everything not chosen that moment to fall.

To Isaac's credit, he managed to get most of the stuff to fall into the Sheriff's cart.  The only thing that hit the floor was a bag of beans that, luckily, didn't rip.  Isaac gave John a sheepish grin.

"Um, you don't mind, do you?"  The Sheriff chuckled as he shook his head.  The two walked in an odd silence and Isaac felt strangely wrong standing beside the man, as if he were betraying both Scott and Stiles by being here with the Sheriff.

"I thought you left."  He blurted out before quickly stammering to correct himself.  John chuckled as Isaac simply sighed.  He took a deep sigh before answering and nodded slightly.

"Yeah, I thought about it.  Maybe dipping into some savings and going on a world trip or something.  But, I thought about it, and I figured it'd be best if I stayed here for a little while longer."  Isaac gave him a curious look.

"Why?"  He asked as the two neared the checkout lane.  John shrugged in response.

"I guess," he said before pausing, "I'd feel better knowing that you guys had someone on your side."

* * *

It was strange, accompanying Derek around Plata Mar.  The older werewolf was frustratingly tight-lipped about his time in Mexico, but Scott could still notice the glances the two got from the various members of the town.  It was impossible to not notice how at ease Derek looked as well.  It was one of the few times Scott had seen him so relaxed. 

The town was small and its population was maybe a thousand at the max.  Still, there was a strange sort of energy that buzzed throughout it and Scott wondered if it was supernatural in nature.  Maybe it was like Beacon Hills, a magnet to the supernatural, but then he realized that if it were, Derek probably would not have been so calm.  Had Stiles been there, he surely would have cracked a joke about Derek actually looking like he was having fun.

It was around nine at night when Derek bought Scott to the beach and Scott instantly saw how the town had gotten its name.

"Wow."  Was all he managed to say as he watched the body of water, whose name Scott couldn't be bother to think of, reflected the light from both the moon and the still descending sun.  It was beautiful and peaceful and as Scott stared in wonder, Derek managed to steal a glance at him.  For a minute, it was as if the past year had melted off of him completely.  Derek smiled as he turned back to the silver sea, remembering the effect it had on him the first he'd seen it.

"Yeah."  Derek breathed out.  The two stayed in the comfortable silence for what could have been minutes or hours.  At some point, they had taken to sitting down on the beach instead of standing.  Derek couldn't help but notice that the only other individuals on the beach were couples and pushed the thought out of his mind.  This was simply a journey to get Scott his smile back, nothing more.  And it seemed to be working.

"Hey Derek, can I ask you something?"  Scott asked finally.  Derek glanced at him, silently answering the question with a yes.  Scott sighed and Derek watched as several different emotions fought for dominance on Scott's face.

"What is it, Scott?"  Derek coaxed gently.  Scott frowned silently.

"Do y-Did you think, Stiles is-was attractive?"  Derek almost winced as Scott's voice dropped whenever he switched from present to past tense.  The change in tone was so jarring, Derek had almost missed the actual question.  Derek didn't answer for a few seconds and Scott was sure he had miscalculated horribly when Derek finally spoke up.

"I guess he wasn't ugly.  He was a bit gangly for my taste.  And he talked too much."  Scott laughed at the last part, but the smile failed to reach his eyes.  Scott bought his knees closer to his chest as he stared at the water.

"When the Darach was going after virgins, he kinda had a sexuality crisis.  He told me that he might be into guys."  Scott swallowed down a stubborn lump in his throat.  Derek sighed and scooted closer to Scott, pulling him into a sideways hug.

"It's not fair he doesn't get to find out."  Scott muttered miserably. 

"I know buddy.  But hey, Scott look at me."  Derek slid backwards a bit so that Scott could turn to face him.  "I meant what I said earlier.  I didn't know Stiles very long, I admit that.  But from what I did know of him, he was happiest when he was with you.  And to the very end, I don't think he regretted a damn thing.  You can't keep blaming yourself Scott.  If nothing else, live enough for both of you."  Derek wasn't sure what he expected to happen, but he was somewhat disappointed when Scott turned back towards the ocean.

"Thanks, Derek."  It was faint, but there was something different in Scott's voice.  Derek didn't know what to call it, other than a spark. 


End file.
